[It's a nice attempt, even if the number he had locked away is cut in half. His acknowledgements throughout collection are less curt the more time goes on, and the tension of not having this done as quickly as possible has died down. They needed a break from all this business.]

I'll grab those, then we'll start for the Institute. [He delicately plucks them from the ground, and one by one, they come to form on his forearms. One a peacock feather, the other a skull. He rolls his eyes, rising to his feet to start walking.] What are you doing out here, anyway? No one drinking their sickly sorrows away?